


Of Lattes and Lawyers

by notcrypticbutcoy



Series: All I Want For Christmas Is You [4]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Christmas fic, Fluff, M/M, Malec, Malec Secret Santa 2017, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 18:02:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13128984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcrypticbutcoy/pseuds/notcrypticbutcoy
Summary: Magnus hated mornings. Despised them. They were entirely unnecessary and frankly far too early, and he was utterly befuddled by the fact that it was, apparently, compulsory for human beings to be awake and living before ten o'clock in the morning. It was just uncivilised.The morning of December the first, however, was already starting to look up—even if it had yet to reach half past eight.***In which Magnus works in a coffee shop, Alec is a regular, and Christmas is the perfect time to fall in love.





	Of Lattes and Lawyers

**Author's Note:**

> A silly little Christmas fic for Malec Secret Santa 2017 on tumblr! For [averymagnificentmalec](http://averymagnificentmalec.tumblr.com/)

  
Magnus hated mornings. Despised them. They were entirely unnecessary and frankly far too early, and he was utterly befuddled by the fact that it was, apparently, compulsory for human beings to be awake and living before ten o'clock in the morning. It was just uncivilised.

The morning of December the first, however, was already starting to look up—even if it had yet to reach half past eight.

Morning had brought with it a soft, shimmering blanket of snow across New York City. Magnus and glanced out of his window and felt excitement settle in his heart, bright and gleaming. It was December, and it was snowing, and Christmas was fast approaching.

The smell of gingerbread and the thick smell of hot chocolate wafting towards him the moment he'd stepped inside the coffee shop he kindly donated his mornings to (if only so he could extend the time he had available to antagonise his friends, and to help pay for his extortionate college fees) had only served to further elevate his mood.

Which, for seven o'clock in the morning, was no mean feat.

There was also, Magnus noticed, upon glancing up from making a cappuccino for a lovely old lady called Edith who loved him for his explanation three weeks about about _what exactly all these funny drinks are, because I really just want a coffee_ , a very, very cute boy walking through the door.

The bells - an added feature for Christmas, rather than a permanent fixture - tinkled as he pushed the door open with long fingers, breath fogging in the cold winter air. A flurry of snow drifted in behind him, landing on the clean mock-wood flooring and settling in his hair.

Magnus allowed his eyes to travel upwards - subtly, because he had class, thank you very much - to take in the rest of the man. He was a little alarmed by just how far up his eyes had to roam. Was it really necessary to be that tall? Was his baby milk supplemented with steroids?

Those long fingers reached up to brush through messy dark hair, dislodging the snowflakes as they melted in the bubbling warmth of the shop. Large hazel eyes flickered up, bypassing Magnus - although he was, admittedly, somewhat concealed behind the machines - to read the menu hanging overhead.

"If I could reach him, I'd be all gooey-eyed too," Edith said from where she was sitting on a stool by the end of the counter, waiting for Magnus to finish her drink. She tapped her walking stick lightly against the floor in emphasis. "But I don't think I could get past his waist."

Magnus snapped a lid onto her drink and passed it over. "Nice pair of heels?"

"Gah, you charmer," she said, rolling her eyes but grinning. "I haven't trusted myself in heels since I was seventy."

"What was that?" Magnus asked. "Seventeen? Me neither. Although I do have a very nice collection of boots."

Edith shook her head at him. "You'll go far in life, being nice to us old folk. Thank you for the coffee, sausage."

Magnus' smile didn't disappear as he watched her go, passing by Mr Too Tall on her way to the door. Mr Too Tall blinked, and darted back to pull the door open for her so she didn't have to negotiation a coffee, her walking stick, and the door.

"You're welcome," he heard Mr Too Tall say as Raphael, two years younger than him and still surviving high school while Magnus annoyed him incessantly just for fun, passed him another order.

This guy was just unnecessary. Stupidly tall, stupidly attractive, _and_ stupidly lovely?

Unnecessary.

Ragnor Fell, Magnus' oldest friend who had somewhat reluctantly agreed to employ him at age seventeen, and who had, Magnus was determined to think, never regretted that decision for a moment, sidled up behind him and said, "You are not subtle."

"Ragnor, when have I ever seen subtle? I don't know what that word means. It's not a concept in my world."

"We both know that's bullshit," Ragnor said, snorting. "Make the damn coffee, or I'll fire you."

Magnus grinned at him and blew him a kiss as he walked off out back, muttering about the insolence of teenagers under his breath. Clearly, Magnus thought, he was talking about Raphael—because Magnus was not a teenager anymore.

He called out for a black americano as he shoved on a lid, expecting to see a sharp suited businessman or a hipster who thought the only acceptable form of beverage was black coffee.

He did not expect to see Mr Too Tall standing by the counter, the full force of those large, bright hazel eyes trained directly on him. A small smile crossed the man's lips as he nodded once, extending a hand to relieve Magnus of the drink.

"Thanks," he said, and, god, since when were New York accents so lovely? Magnus thought that voice could probably melt chocolate.

Fuck that. That voice sounded like melted chocolate itself.

"You're welcome," Magnus said, returning the man's smile twofold, bright and confident as he always was. "Sugar by the door, if you want any."

"Got it," Mr Too Tall said, and flashed Magnus another smile before he turned and headed towards the door, coffee in hand.

As he turned to make his next drink, he let his eyes flicker up over the top of the machine to watch the man stir half a packet of sugar into his americano, push the lid back on with long, dexterous fingers, and haul open the heavy door with ease as he stepped back out into the cold, sans hat, gloves, or scarf.

The man was clearly insane, Magnus thought, as he continued working. Although, he was so pale he looked like he could be made of snow—maybe it didn't bother him.

He was also devastatingly attractive, and Magnus had a weakness for cute people.

Magnus really, really hoped that The Downworld Café had just gained another regular.

***

"Isabelle, for the last time, I do not need a date to go to your stupid Christmas party!"

Across the kitchen - his kitchen, thank you very much, which his sister was currently invading - Isabelle Lightwood narrowed her eyes at her brother and folded her arms across her chest, slowly enough that the emphasis on the movement made Alec regret his words instantly.

"I will give you one chance to retract that statement, before I tell you that your punishment is that I will dress you for my party."

Alec groaned. "Isabelle, come on. I'm sorry. Your party isn't going to be stupid, and I'm happy to go. But I don't need a date."

"Everyone needs a date," she said briskly. "I don't care who you take. Take Lydia for all I care."

"I'm gay."

She rolled her eyes, and said with the kind of patience of a person talking to a five year old, "Yes, Alec, I know. You're allowed to have a platonic date."

"Then Jace is my date."

"No," she said, "Jace is Simon's date. Come on. Be reasonable. You can't poach Simon's boyfriend. I'm going with Clary, obviously, and Max isn't coming because he isn't interested, so you need a date who's not one of us. Take a uni friend."

Alec huffed at her. He didn't want to take a goddamn university friend. Honestly, he wasn't overly thrilled about going to Isabelle's party at all. But he was, because it was Christmas, and she was his sister, and he loved her.

Deep, deep down, where she couldn't be this infuriating.

"I'm not taking Lydia. Everyone will think we're dating, and that sounds absolutely horrible."

Isabelle smirked. "I'll tell her you said that."

"Go ahead. She'll agree with me. I don't want to be a heterosexual and she doesn't want to be dating the male version of herself. She'll be called a narcissist."

"Look, Alec." Isabelle spread her hands wide. "You need a date to this party. It's non-negotiable. I have the perfect blackmail material, so this is the best opportunity I'm going to get all year to get your love life spinning again."

Alec's eyes closed, a groan falling from between his lips. Of course. He should have known that Isabelle was trying to get him to start dating again, after the utter fucking disaster of the last guy he'd dated.

"Fine," Alec said. "Fine. I'm going to get a date for your party, and I'm going to spend the night pretending to like them, and then you're not going to mention the word date in the context of me having one or going on one until Thanksgiving. Deal?"

Isabelle smirked. "Deal."

***

Alec was freezing his ass off as he hurried into The Downworld Café early, gym bag in his hand and rucksack thrown over his shoulder. He had an hour until he was supposed to be at work, and he had to be in court at half past eight to argue a case that he knew he was going to lose just by glancing at it.

Nevertheless, he'd spent the last three months solid gathering as much evidence and as many witnesses and experts as he possibly could. He wasn't going to let it go without a fight.

"Could I get a black americano, please?" he asked the woman at the counter, who had a book sitting beside her till open to a page about micro plankton. He thought, fleetingly, of Isabelle.

"Sure," she said, scribbling on the side of a cup while he swiped his credit card over the machine, flashing her a smile in thanks.

He waited by the end of the counter, and took the opportunity to scroll though his emails in an attempt to distract himself from the devastation he was sure to face from his clients later in the morning.

"Black americano," a smooth voice said, and he glanced up, shoving his phone away and—

Crap. It was that guy again. Alec remembered him from the last Tim heed been in the café—he'd thought he was gorgeous then, and he didn't appear to have undergone some drastic downgrade since.

"Thank you," he said, mildly impressed with himself for managing to speak without stuttering. His eighteen year old self might have fainted.

The guy flashed him a smile as Alec took the cup. "No problem."

***

Magnus saw Mr Too Tall every fucking day, and it was slowly killing him.

Not only was he gorgeous, enormous, and supremely polite, but he was also more than a little intriguing. He only ever came in at extreme hours, his coffee order was beyond boring, and he clearly worked in an office, judging from his ever-perfect suit, yet he also often came in carrying what was unmistakably a gym bag, and he was nowhere near arrogant enough to be a banker.

And, of course, he never stayed around for long enough for Magnus to entice him into a conversation. Especially not in the mornings, when he was busy with consecutive orders anyway.

"He's a lawyer," Raphael said on a Saturday morning, while Magnus expressed his frustrations.

He made it his mission to know all of their regulars at least by name, and this guy, whoever the hell he was, had come out of nowhere and was evading him at every opportunity. It was beyond frustrating.

"Bullshit he's a lawyer," Magnus said, scoffing as he cleaned off the end of the machine. "Lawyers don't say thank you every single time a server deigns to provide them with their order."

Raphael shrugged. "He's a lawyer."

"And you know this how, exactly?"

"I just do."

Magnus kept his opinions about Raphael's baseless conclusion to himself, and busied himself with his work. He'd find out, somehow.

The opportunity presented itself, somewhat unexpectedly, at eleven o'clock that day.

While Raphael took the opportunity of the lack of customers to revise for his SATs in the back, Magnus wiped down some of the tables, tossing bits of debris and half-empty coffee cups and discarded napkins in the bin. Really, why people couldn't throw away their own damn rubbish was a mystery to him. Ragnor had even put up signs for what could be recycled where. With pictures.

The Christmas bells around the door tinkled softly as the door was pushed open, and the cool air that rushed in made Magnus shiver as he glanced up.

Mr Tall Dark and Handsome walked in, shutting the door behind him and looking towards the counter. Magnus watched him as his eyes roamed over the menus and the pastries and cakes in the display, seeing but not taking anything in.

Summoning the willpower to actually serve this enigma of a man rather than just stare at him dreamily from behind the coffee machine like he usually did, Magnus dropped his cloth down on the table and strode over briskly, stepping behind the counter.

"Hi," he said, smiling at him. "May I help you?"

The man hadn't moved close to the counter, instead standing still a few feet away, but he roamed closer at Magnus' words. "I—" He stared at Magnus, seemingly unable to find what he wanted to say. "Um—"

Normally, Magnus would have considered a pretty boy rendered mute in his presence an enormous compliment—even if it was a frequent enough occurrence not to be a shock. But the look on Tall Dark and Handsome's face just made sympathy shoot through him. He looked like someone had just run over his puppy.

"Are you alright?" Magnus asked him, gently.

The man shrugged. "Yeah."

"Would you like an americano? Black?"

Tall Dark and Handsome didn't appear to think it entirely weird that Magnus knew his coffee order so easily, but neither did he appear to know exactly what he wanted. Magnus couldn't help but wonder whether someone really had just died.

"Why don't you take a seat, and I'll whip you something up, hm?" Magnus suggested, offering him a smile that was a little smaller and a lot more sincere than the bright ones he usually flashed at his customers.

He exhaled. "Thank you."

Magnus set about making a drink, then plucked out one of Ragnor's mice pies, because, frankly, he was certain that they could cheer anyone up at least a little bit.

"Here," he said, setting the coffee and plate down in front of Tall Dark and Handsome. "Eggnog latte and a mince pie."

"Thank you," he said. "How much?"

Magnus deliberated. "How about you tell me your name and let me chat to you?"

The guy blinked. "Pardon?"

Magnus smiled a little. "You're a regular and I don't even know your name. It's unacceptable. I know the name of all our regulars."

"All the morning regulars?" the guy asked, one corner of his lips lifting. "I've never seen you in here in the evenings."

"No," Magnus agreed. "I work mornings before I have university classes. And Saturdays."

"I'm Alec," the guy said, prying off the lid of his coffee to blow across the top. He looked down at it suspiciously before taking a tentative sip. His eyes widened. "And that is weirdly nice."

Magnus smirked. "Never had one before?"

"Only from Starbucks. Disappointing."

"I'm Magnus," Magnus said. "Although I'm sure you know that, as you appear to be capable of reading."

A faint hint of pink stained the tops of Alec's cheeks. Fascinating. "Yeah. I- Yeah."

"So." Magnus sat down in the chair across from him, and folded his fingers together. "Bad day?"

Alec groaned. "Terrible day."

"Hm. So, let me guess. You work somewhere fancy, probably some high-end, professional sort of job, but nothing fashionable, because that suit toes the line between smart and totally inept at dressing rather beautifully."

Alec didn't appear to be offended, one corner of his lips lifting up. "I'm a lawyer."

"Damnit," Magnus said, darting his eyes to the door leading out back where Raphael was. "That means Raphael was right. How disappointing."

Alec lips turned up. "Do you gossip about all your customers?"

"No. Only the cute ones."

Magnus winked, and Alec choked on his next sip of coffee.

"So, you're a lawyer," Magnus said. "Lose a case?"

"Not yet, but I will have done by the end of the day," Alec said, shaking his head. "It was a precarious case anyway, but I thought I had it. I was wrong."

"Are you sure?" Magnus asked, tapping lightly at the table. "There's no point giving up before you've got the judge banging a gavel, surely?"

Alec shrugged. "Maybe. It's just so frustrating, because I know my client deserves a win. It should be so simple."

"I think you're selling yourself short. The facts of a case don't change. If you had it before, why not anymore?"

"I can't discuss the details," Alec said. "Attorney-client privilege. But it's a messy case. Things keep popping up."

"Well." Magnus smiled. "I'm sure you're capable of securing justice. But if things don't go your way, feel free to pop by for another coffee. We're open until late."

"I know." Alec glanced up. "How long are you here for?"

"Until four," Magnus told him, and glanced back as he heard the unhappy sound of the door opening. He stood. "You'll have to excuse me. Enjoy your mince pie, Alec."

***

At half past nine that evening, Alec Lightwood stepped into the Downworld Café, the satisfaction of a job well done and justice served sitting contentedly in his chest, and ordered an eggnog latte.

Ragnor - according to his name tag - frowned, but didn't comment. Alec wondered momentarily whether he was so predictable that everyone in the place knew what he usually ordered.

Alec thanked the woman making the coffees, and smiled to himself.

He liked this place.

***

"I wanted to say thank you."

Magnus raised his eyebrows, looking to the side at the voice as he was busy making coffee for the morning's rush of busy city commuters. A smile flitted across his face when he saw Alec standing by the counter with his arms folded across the top, eyes bright.

"I haven't made your coffee yet, darling," Magnus said teasingly as he finished a cappuccino for a woman talking rapidly on her phone.

"No. For your pep talk. I was always told that confidence is half of the job. And I was lacking it. I don't think I'd have won that case if I hadn't– if _you_ hadn't given me a bit more determination."

"You're welcome," Magnus said, catching Alec's eye as his smile widened a little. "I'm glad it went well."

"Yeah. Hey, I was wondering—"

"Alright, alright." A stout businessman wearing a scowl that could have rivalled Raphael's best interrupted Alec before he could finish voicing his thoughts. "Enough flirting, I want my damn coffee."

Magnus rolled his eyes. "It's coming up, sir."

"Well, it's not coming up fast enough. You're here to provide a service, not stand around and chat."

Magnus gripped the cup tightly to make sure he didn't fling its scalding contents in this asshole's face. He hadn't stopped working while talking to Alec. He hadn't stopped for a second. Which, frankly, was very disappointing, because he would much rather have gazed at Alec's infuriatingly beautiful face while they conversed.

Alas, he was too much the professional. Not that this particular dickhead seemed to be capable of seeing that.

"Honestly," the guy said, to nobody in particular. "What are you people paid for?"

"I think that's enough," Alec said, shaking his head as Magnus finished up the guy's coffee and set it on the counter. "It was my fault."

"No, it wasn't," Magnus said firmly. "You've got your coffee, sir, now please let me do my job and continue making the rest of these orders. If you have a complaint, you'll find my manager at the end. The one with the green highlights in his hair."

The guy glanced over at Ragnor, balked, and turned a deep shade of puce. "You've just lost a customer."

"Have a wonderful day," Magnus said, smiling pleasantly, before rolling his eyes dramatically the moment the guy had turned his back.

All the customers waiting for their coffee, including Alec, snickered.

"What an ass," an older woman said. "Don't worry about him, sugar."

Magnus smiled at her. "I wasn't."

He found himself glancing over at Alec before he turned back to his work, and he could have sworn the way their fingers brushed as he passed him his coffee had been intentional on Alec's part.

***

By the time December made itself well and truly known, with Christmas drawing ever-closer and signs of the upcoming holidays everywhere around the city, Alec found himself looking forward to his morning coffee run far more than—

Well. More than pretty much anything else in his day.

Part of that, of course, was the unfortunate fact that he'd chosen the same profession as his parents, and his father took every opportunity to shit on which cases he chose to take. He liked his job. He didn't like the PR.

Part of that was also because his morning coffee run brought with it an upbeat, smiling dose of Magnus Surname-Still-To-Be-Discovered. Magnus moved like he had music singing through his veins and he dressed like he was aiming to front Vogue.

He was gorgeous. Their minute-long exchanges while Magnus worked a machine and Alec leant against the counter, chattering instead of hazing moodily down at his fine, sent Alec off to work with a lighter heart.

So when Alec stepped through the door of the Downworld Café one Saturday, a week before Christmas, Isabelle's arm hooked through his and snow covering their shoulders, his eyes involuntarily sought out Magnus.

Beside him, Isabelle raised an eyebrow. "Looking for someone?"

Alec glanced over at her. "What? No. You have to try the eggnog latte, they're—"

"Alexander!"

Behind the counter, cloth in hand as he wiped down the top of the glass pastry case, stood Magnus, a smile stretching across his face.

Isabelle's eyes swivelled to stare at him—probably because Alec never let anybody call him that. But when Magnus had asked him, a week ago, whether Alec was short for Alexander, and he'd proceeded to call him by his full name incessantly, Alec hadn't had the heart to tell him not to. Not when it made Magnus' eyes turn bright and his lips curl up every time he did.

"Morning," Alec said, smiling back at him - dare he say it - almost shyly. Alec was not a shy person. Shy hadn't really been a part of his vocabulary since he was a child. Lawyers certainly couldn't be shy. Something about Magnus just seemed to bring out his sheepish side.  
  
"What can I get for you?" Magnus asked, dropping the cloth to move behind the till.

It was fairly empty in the shop, with an elderly couple seated in the corner, another barista visible out back, and young mother sitting with her baby. Alec wondered whether Magnus had time to chat. He hadn't been in yesterday, and he was sure his day at work had been less productive because of it.

"Alec," Isabelle said, emphatically, a meaningful grin on her face that made Alec want to curl up and hide in one of the delicious-looking croissants, "tells me I have to try an eggnog latte. Which is interesting, because he never used to like Christmas drinks."

Alec rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Iz."

Magnus watched the exchange with clear amusement. "Alexander?"

"What was that little espresso thing called?" he asked, furrowing his brow. "It began with m and you kept telling me I was saying it wrong."

"An espresso macchiato," Magnus said, ducking his head a little as he smiled. "Coming up."

Magnus moved over to make their drinks, steaming the milk and flipping a cup over with effortless grace. Alec thought there was probably something wrong with him, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the rings lining Magnus' fingers, catching the light and casting rainbows across the shop.

"So," Magnus said, as he passed Isabelle her drink. "Isabelle?"

Isabelle raised her eyebrows. "I'm impressed."

"I notice things. Is Alexander your boyfriend, husband, or brother?"

Choking on a laugh, Isabelle shook her head, while Alec felt himself recoil in abject horror.

"Brother," Isabelle said, grinning. "He's gay. And I've been getting the vibe that my brother has his eyes on someone else."

Magnus glanced up at that, something odd crossing his face as he glanced between them. "Ah. Well, macchiato for you, darling. Have a wonderful day."

With a final smile, he picked up the cloth he'd discarded to serve them, and went back to cleaning up, leaving Alec with an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Clearly, Magnus had realised exactly what Isabelle was insinuating—and he didn't appear to like it very much.

***

It wasn't a habit of Magnus' to work on Sundays. He hated getting up early, and he felt he needed at least one day in a week in which he had absolutely no obligation to interact with other human beings. The only living creature he needed to see on a Sunday was his cat.

The Sunday following his conversation with Alec and his sister, however, he made the clearly misguided decision to wander down to the Downworld Café to buy himself a latte before he set himself up to spend the afternoon writing a paper due on Tuesday.

He was greeted by warm hazel eyes the moment he reached the door, and a bright smile that made his insides melt.

"Magnus," Alec said, holding the door open for him as Magnus stepped inside, taking with him a mini world wind of snow that melted the moment it hit the floor. "Good morning."

Magnus summoned a somewhat half-hearted smile. "Good morning, darling."

"I won't keep you if you're busy, but is it okay if I wait?" Alec asked, looking inexplicably nervous. "I wanted to ask you something."

Magnus shrugged, and nodded his agreement. What did he have to lose? He had a minor, coffee shop crush, and had been informed by an unsuspecting observer that said coffee shop crush was interested in someone. It was nothing he hadn't experienced before. That didn't mean it didn't sting, just a little.

Coffee in hand, Magnus turned back towards Alec, who was leaning up against the tall bar table by the window with his ankles crossed, looking the epitome of casual. Only his eyes, darting around and glimmering with nerves, betrayed him.

"So," Alec said, as Magnus approached him, curling both hands around the cardboard sleeve of his latte. "As Isabelle split the beans yesterday, I thought I might as well ask. It can't get much more embarrassingly obvious."

Alec let out a throaty chuckle; Magnus stared at him. What on earth was he talking about.

"I beg your pardon?" Magnus asked, feeling distinctly like Alec was aware of something he wasn't.

"Yesterday," Alec said, as though clarifying something. It only made Magnus more confused. "What Isabelle said. I– Well, I know you didn't exactly say anything positive, but I presumed you would have said _something_ if it totally weirded you out, so I thought—"

"Wait." Magnus held up a gloved hand, palm forward, brain beginning to catch up to what else had occurred yesterday—not that it had seemed like a big deal to him at the time. He'd noticed Alec glancing appreciatively at a guy's ass the second day he'd met him. He'd already suspected that Alec held some male-orientated attraction. "Why on earth would I be at all bothered by you being gay? I don't think I could wear my bisexuality any more clearly if I tried."

Alec opened his mouth—

And then promptly closed it again, eyes going blank, jaw slackening. He turned his head slightly to one side in apparent confusion. "What?"

Magnus stared at him. "What? Did I hear your sister wrong? Are you not gay?"

"What– No. I mean yes, I mean–" Alec huffed out a frustrated breath through his nose, and then started again. "No, you didn't hear her wrong. I am gay. I thought that was obvious."

Magnus shrugged. "Fairly. So what are you talking about?"

"The...other thing she said."

"About your interest in someone?"

"No!" Alec laughed a little. "No, about my interest in _you_!"

It was Magnus' turn to gape like some sort of mutated, oxygen-deprived fish, until, faintly, he managed to get out, "What?"

Alec laughed again, and let go of his coffee with one hand to circle his fingers gently around Magnus' wrist. "I'm trying to ask you out. I thought you knew what Isabelle was insinuating yesterday."

"No," Magnus said, a confused smile starting to spread across his face as he realised what was going on. "No, I thought she was talking about someone else."

"She was talking about you." Alec shook his head, smile smaller on his lips but deeper in his eyes, making them twinkle like lights wound intricately around a Christmas tree, trained right on Magnus, pinning him in place. "She's throwing a Christmas party the weekend before Christmas. I was told I had to bring a plus one. I was aiming for coercing one of my colleagues into going, but I– I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?"

"Hm."

Magnus smiled up at him, pretending to think about it as he sidled closer, stepping into Alexander's space and crossing the boundaries of what was socially acceptable between friendly acquaintances. Not that Alec seemed to mind. At all, judging from the way his eyes dipped down to Magnus' lips and his Adam's apple bobbed, the hand still resting on Magnus' wrist shifting.

"I'll think about it," Magnus said, tilting his head. "And if we can go on a date before next weekend, which is far, far too long to wait, I might say yes."

Alec seemed to breathe out a sigh of relief. An easy, anticipatory sort of smile spread across his face, eyes turning to liquid, and he nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good."

"Fancy going for a walk?" Magnus asked, pulling back and extending a hand.

"That sounds wonderful," Alec said, taking his hand and slotting their fingers together. He looked momentarily hesitant, eyes darting down to Magnus' lips again. Clearly, he wanted to kiss Magnus. Clearly, he also knew that making out in a coffee shop, right then, probably wasn't a very good course of action.

So Magnus went for a compromise. Leaning in close so that their shoulders were pressed together as they slipped out of the door, boots crunching in the snow, he tipped his chin up a little to press a kiss to Alec's cheek.

A delightful red rushed up his neck, and Magnus was certain that it had nothing to do with the abrupt cold. (Although, Alexander's lack of warm clothing did provide excellent options for Christmas. A scarf, perhaps, in the right shade of blue...)

Alec turned his gaze on Magnus, smiling softly, and took a sip of his coffee. "You're a force of nature, Magnus— Fuck." He laughed a little, and it sounded like the warm piano chords and tinkling bells of Christmas songs. "I don't even know your last name."

"Bane," Magnus told him. "Magnus Bane."

"Mine's Lightwood," Alec said, and Magnus grinned.

"I know. It's on your credit card."

Alec rolled his eyes. "Like I said. Force of nature."

"Oh, darling." Magnus smirked up at him, and mirrored Alec as they both indulged in a swig of coffee. "You haven't seen the half of it."

Little did he know, walking through the snowy streets of New York with their fingers tangled lightly together, exchanging jibes and flirtations over Christmas coffees, that the fond eye roll he got in response would become his favourite reply in the world.

Except, of course, the three words spoken in front of the heat of a fire the next year, over hot chocolate and between kisses, fingers caught on Christmas sweaters and feet tucked under thighs, curled together and basking in the warmth of love.

But, right then, he simply delighted in the tentative squeeze of his hand, and the light brush of coffee-warmed lips against his snow-cooled cheek, making his lips curl up and something warm light up in the pit of his stomach.

_Merry Christmas, indeed._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this -- let me know what you thought in the comments, and merry Christmas! I hope you all have/had an amazing day <3


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